


Here Isn’t Where I Wanna Be

by the_butler



Series: Prompts [5]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bittersweet Reunion, Closet Relationship, High School, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Writing Prompt, years after high school
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-15
Packaged: 2020-02-29 10:22:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18776347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_butler/pseuds/the_butler
Summary: One day Bucky agreed to pose as a model for the art class Steve was in, and there, in the middle of sketching, they accidentally locked eyes with one another. And it was as if lightning struck- I’ve been made, Steve thought, I’ve been found out. In Bucky’s grey eyes he found himself stripped to his core, and Bucky smiled.Prompt: We dated in high school and then you moved away and now you’re back in town





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I dunno. A different take at a modern high school AU. Tweaked the prompt a bit.
> 
> Title from “R U Mine?” by the Arctic Monkeys.
> 
> Made a doodle of this over at my [tumblr](https://the-butler-fanstuff.tumblr.com/post/185015902941/here-isnt-where-i-wanna-be-writing-prompt-we)

Steven Rogers was young when he found out he was attracted to boys. It was unfortunate, then, that other boys were only attracted to bullying him. It came easy to them to torment this sickly, thin, tiny kid with the mournful blue eyes. He was also poor and had a dead dad, which the other kids weaponized with relish. He often came home with bruises and an anger he couldn’t quite deal with, and his tired mother would take him in her arms and they would sit in silence, not saying the words they meant to say to each other- one didn’t have the necessary vocabulary for his feelings and the other had feelings she couldn’t find words for. 

When he grew older he grew taller but not any bigger- he was still gangly- all knees and elbows and awkward. He took refuge in books and became enamored with art, imagined himself becoming a world-renowned painter someday, some day when he could afford the cost of art supplies. He made do with sketchbooks with cheap paper and colored pencils he carefully hoarded, and kept to himself. 

In high school he learned to not fight back against bullies, to school his face into a passive blank stare at every taunt. There was so much more at stake- he had finally understood what it meant to be attracted to his own gender, and it was a secret he thought he had to keep at the expense of everything else. Eventually they tired of tormenting the poor art nerd who wouldn’t fight back, and found someone else to hurt. It was a knife that twisted in Steve’s heart, to let this other young man take his stead, but at the time he thought his burgeoning secret sexuality was a heavier burden than to stand up for someone else. It haunted him, now and again, to remember this act of cowardice for self-preservation. 

In any case he buried himself in academics and a weekend job, took all art-related classes in the hope of an art scholarship for college, even though his mother’s failing health took up all of their money and the reality of higher studies became a pipe dream. But he didn’t know it yet, not then, and it was in art class when he met Bucky. 

James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky to his many friends, was a good-looking charmer who played quarterback for their small school. It wasn’t much of a team, but he had a rocket for an arm and people agreed he’d go on to become something big someday. He always smiled and received their compliments with a quick laugh, did Bucky. He was very popular with the ladies, too, because some people had all the luck. But he never seemed to keep a girlfriend- he flirted and flitted from one girl to the next, never staying for long. 

One day Bucky agreed to pose as a model for the art class Steve was in, and there, in the middle of sketching, they accidentally locked eyes with one another. And it was as if lightning struck- I’ve been made, Steve thought, I’ve been found out. In Bucky’s grey eyes he found himself stripped to his core, and Bucky smiled. Steve didn’t know how he made it through that class, but he left as soon as bell rung, eyes downcast and not heeding Bucky’s attempts at catching his attention. That was the one and only time he didn’t pass a class assignment, choosing instead to leave Bucky’s portrait unfinished in his room. 

It was two weeks after that Bucky found him at his job at the local diner. His mother’s illness took a turn for the worse and they could barely get by with just her widow’s pension. Trying to get her on VA medical benefits was a Kafka-esque endeavor, and he soon gave up trying to understand the byzantine bureaucracy that was the VA and chose instead to get an after-school job on top of his weekend shifts at the supply store. It was entirely a coincidence- the diner wasn’t a known hangout place for the popular kids who instead patronized the newer restaurant on the other side of town. When he got to their table Steve could barely get through the diner menu spiel as Bucky looked up from the laminate menus and a look of recognition flitted through his face. No one else in his group of friends recognized Steve from school and why would they? But it was Bucky he was concerned about, and Bucky remembered him. Behind the counter he convinced the only other waitress to change tables with him, and he couldn’t remember what excuse he made. He mostly kept himself behind the counter and forced himself to not look in that direction, lest Bucky lay bare his secrets with just another look. Each uproarious laughter ate away at him- were they talking about him? Do they know? Did he tell them? He found himself short of breath and took his break early. It was only fifteen minutes but it turned out to be enough, as when he came back the group was leaving, to some party or other, thank god. Before exiting Bucky gave him another look but this time he knew how to blankly let it pass through him, and he wished the departing patrons a lifeless good night. 

A week after that he found Bucky waiting for him outside the diner after his shift. Steve gritted his teeth, he had learned from his past bullies how to handle this- either fight it or endure until they got bored. Looking at the way Bucky smiled at him, it didn’t seem like bullying though. He had a very charming smile, did Bucky, and Steve found himself being slightly charmed by it. So instead of just ignoring, he opted to ask instead.

“What do you want from me?”

Bucky shrugged, in good spirits it seemed. “Just wanted to talk. Be friends.”

Steve doubted it. “You have enough friends.” He said, and then walked past Bucky to go on his way home. Bucky didn’t stop him. But then Bucky kept showing up after his late night shifts, hailing him with a cheery hello. Sometimes he replied, sometimes he just nodded, but always he just walked away.

When the weather turned cold and he still found Bucky waiting for him outside the diner after his late shift, bundled in a black leather jacket with a red scarf, curiosity got the better of him. 

“What do you want from me?” He repeated his question from a season ago.

“I told you,” Bucky said with a cocky grin, “just wanted to be friends.”

And then, Steve found himself saying the words, “come by my house then, it’s getting cold.”

And Bucky cheerfully bounded after him, keeping up a one sided conversation about anything and everything. He offered to take them in his car, and Steve agreed. During the car ride Bucky kept up the conversation to which Steve just hmm-ed and ah-ed in between giving directions. They got to his house, and tonight he had it to himself- his mother being in one of her frequent hospital stays. He said so as he opened the door and held it open for Bucky to come in. Once the door was closed, Bucky pushed him to it and kissed him. 

Looking back he remembered the kiss so clearly- how soft and cold Bucky’s lips were, how he froze in surprise and fear, how quick it ended as it began. 

He was dumbfounded, rendered speechless as Bucky moved back and stared at him with that smile, and when he eventually found his voice he could only croak a “Why?”

“You looked like you wanted someone to kiss you.” 

And he did, oh how Steve wanted Bucky to kiss him, ever since he saw him at a pep rally the start of the school year. Saw that cocky grin as he tossed a football back and forth with his friends as the teams were introduced. Saw the gleam of a future in his grey eyes that sometimes looked icy blue, those same eyes that stared at Steve and saw all he had hidden inside. 

So Steve reached out a shaking hand and gripped at Bucky’s jacket, a lifeline, and Bucky pulled him close, and they kissed again and again until Bucky had to leave.

It wasn’t a one time thing, either. It happened, not always, but Steve would find Bucky waiting for him after work, and he’d drive them back to Steve’s house, and in silence they would kiss and make out. This went on for months before Steve finally got the courage to ask about Bucky’s parade of girls he publicly went out with. 

“Does it bother you?”

Steve bit his lip. It did. But what right did he have? He couldn’t just out himself and the school quarterback. So he lied and said not really, and Bucky laughed and said why ask then, and they dropped the matter and never talked about it again.

They never interacted at school beyond just looks and nods in the hallway, and if Bucky’s friends asked he would always say Steve was just some dude he met in art class who made a good portrait of him, and it was half true. Steve didn’t have friends to interrogate him about his passing acquaintance with one of the cool kids. They kept in touch through texts, and even then not really that much with Steve’s crappy phone plan. It always ever was about when they could ‘hangout’ again. Steve was careful to arrange it on nights he was alone at home, and these days that was happening with increasing frequency. 

This went on until senior year, and their kisses turned to petting that turned to hand jobs. One night, Steve downed a can of beer before Bucky came over and offered to do a blow job, something he’s only ever seen in porn he looked up. It was awkward and sloppy but Bucky was encouraging, touching his hair and face gently, guiding him. Bucky never offered to do it for Steve, but at the time Steve was just so overcome with emotions to care. It happened a couple more times for him to be better at it, and Steve felt seeing Bucky smile at him with a dazed look at his face after coming was the best thing he’d ever see in his life. 

Prom night rolled around and he had to watch prom king Bucky dance with the prom queen to a slow song they had just listened to the other night, hands down each other’s pants and fervently kissing, and Steve had to remind himself that this wasn’t his Bucky. But there was a bitter taste in his mouth, and he left soon as everyone else joined the couple on the dance floor. Bucky didn’t visit him that night, or any other night soon after.

Graduation came and a day after a text from Bucky. He wanted to meet, but Steve was too busy with so many things, he convinced himself, and never texted back. His mother’s illness had become even worse, and every night after shifts drove his mother’s beat up car to the hospital. He didn’t get an art scholarship, having neglected art in favor of more shifts and occasional trysts with Bucky, and anyway what was a college education and a fancy art degree in the face of his mother’s impending death. When she passed a few weeks after graduation he drove himself straight to the military recruitment office after the funeral. The recruiting officer made a comment about how dressed up he was, but he just let the comment slide of his back. He sold the house to pay for some of the hospital and funeral fees and shipped off to boot camp, never looking back.


	2. Satisfaction Feels Like a Distant Memory

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The clean cut, clean shaven boy who laughed with the warmth of the sun and looked at him with a storm in his grey eyes was not entirely gone- Steve saw glimpses of him in their earlier interaction. But in silence he saw the man that the boy had become- more withdrawn, a little disheveled, hair a little too long and face unshaven. But the grey eyes- Bucky put down his glass and looked at Steve straight in the eyes and it was like lightning struck twice. 
> 
>  
> 
> (This is the second part of the prompt which I realize I didn’t include in the first chapter, which was ‘and now you’re back in town’)
> 
> (Chapter title still from “R U Mine?” By the Arctic Monkeys)

It had been more than a decade since Steve left town. He’d been in the army and then transferred to a new agency, S.H.I.E.L.D. with the help of Peggy Carter, the woman who would have been the love of his life in another lifetime where he wasn’t exclusively attracted to men- bad men, Peggy had told him, horrible choices. They’d met while he was still in the army and Peggy was at the camp, liaising, and he asked her out and did his level best to be charming. DADT was still in full effect, and his raging christian guilt from his upbringing as well as his one experience at a same sex relationship left him still in the closet. But over drinks that night, Peggy gave him a good long stare and clocked him. It was unnerving, her gaze- it reminded him so much of when Bucky found him out with just a look back in high school. Steve wondered if there was something to him, how can he be so transparent with something he buried so deep within him. 

“I will not be your beard.”

She said, in her terrific British accent. Steve remembered burning with shame. But when a couple of guys from work came over to playfully harangue him on his date, she acted the part- smiling and touching and flirting with him, and for a moment Steve thought this must be what its like to be normal, and knew he would never be so. She insisted on keeping in touch after that, and they did via e-mails, and then when his contract was up she just happened to mention an opening in her department, a hint he gladly took. There they all worked for Nick Fury, a hard ass if there ever was one, and he finally found friends in his co-worker Natasha Romanoff and the Air Force liaison Sam Wilson. He worked up the ranks until he managed his own team, and that’s where he met Brock Rumlow- his greatest mistake, Peggy said. Second greatest, Steve answered in his mind.

Brock was brash and cocky and if he squinted reminded him of Bucky, only without the kindness. Steve had bulked up in the army and kept it but deep inside he was still the same thin, gangly boy the kids ganged up on, and Brock zeroed in on his insecurities and knew how to exploit them. It wasn’t the first furtive relationship Steve engaged in, but it was more fraught. Things came to a head when Brock threatened to expose him at work, and that was it for the two of them. Afterwards Brock was assigned to a different team at a different location, and Steve knew he had to thank Peggy for that. 

“Don’t ever date a co-worker.”

Was all she said, still in that terrific British accent, and Steve could only nod enthusiastically. He gave himself some time after that. Finally looked at the LGBT support group pamphlets Peggy and Nat would hand him when they all hung out. It took a while, years, but he finally felt comfortable enough in his own skin. Even joined an LGBT in the military group, and when DADT was lifted he celebrated with them. Dating wise, he didn’t do much aside from the casual date here and there. Nat would always say he was a catch and suggest names that he always somehow found some fault with. Sam would point out guys who checked Steve out whenever they went out for drinks, but Steve would always say he’d rather stay drinking with Sam. Peggy knew him well enough to not try to set him up with anyone, but didn’t hold back about what she thought of the ones he went on dates with. There was one who almost made her cut, someone who escaped the withering one word review “unworthy”- a classics professor with the build of a demigod named Thor Odinson, but he had to go back to his country and Steve didn’t think a long distance relationship would work, and neither were willing to move for the other. They parted as friends, which is definitely an upgrade from all his other partings. 

A lot of things happened to Steve in more than a decade since he left his hometown, and so he liked to think that the Steve who was now back for three days there was a different one from the one who left years ago. Physically, definitely. But also emotionally- no longer wracked with fear and guilt for something he just was. He thought it a little funny now, how much he lived in fear that he didn’t even notice he was afraid all the time, how much it shaped his world and his relationships. He pitied his younger self, and hoped he could reach back in time to spare the boy the many heartaches he would encounter, but time travel is just science fiction, and we all have to travel time one day after the next. He pulled up to the better motel in the nicer part of town still a little introspective. 

The first place he visited were his parents graves, long neglected since he ran away from this place as fast as he could. He cleaned it up best he can, and laid two bouquets of flowers and shed tears. He could finally tell them his long held secret, and he whispered it to the wind. He felt free. Would they have understood, if he only told them while they lived? He’d never know. They loved him as best they could, that he knew, and he was grateful. 

Leaving the graveyard he googled for a place to have dinner, and up came familiar places but also some new ones- there was a bar called “Winter Soldier” and he laughed at the pretentiousness. Whatever could the name even mean? Still, he felt a drink was in order after his emotional visit to the dearly departed, and so he set the directions for the new bar. 

It wasn’t too busy, seeing as it was a weekday and still before six, but Steve appreciated the decor. It wasn’t as pretentious as he thought it would be given the name, and it looked modern without trying too hard. He sat himself at the bar where there were two other patrons watching the game, and he glanced at it as he waited on someone to take his order.

He wasn’t prepared to hear the voice again.

“Stevie?”

His attention moved from the television to the man before him, one Bucky Barnes. He looked shocked, and then remembered himself, and then smiled. Steve didn’t know how much he missed that smile until he saw it again, and an ache bloomed in his chest.

“Hey, man, look at you! You, wow, you look great!” Came the enthusiastic words, and Steve just half-smiled and shrugged. Bucky laughed. “Still don’t know how to take compliments, I see.”

“It wasn’t like I was getting a lot of them.” Steve rejoined, and quickly followed up, “and you look good as well.”

“Still don’t know how to lie, either.” Bucky answered jovially, and reached over the counter to place a hand on Steve’s shoulder. He let it happen, but inside he burned at the touch. “Glad to see you again.” Bucky said now serious, and squeezed at his shoulder. A moment passed, and Bucky took back his hand and reached for a glass. “What can I get you?”

Steve opted for a shot of whiskey, neat, and Bucky didn’t comment but pulled a bottle from the shelf behind him and two glasses. He poured it in front of Steve and took the other glass and held it up for a toast and smiled again.

“What are we drinking to?”

“My parents.”

“Oh. I’m sorry about...” Bucky started, but Steve cut him off with a standard, “don’t be. It wasn’t your fault.” And he quickly clinked his glass to Bucky’s and took a sip. He watched as Bucky took a sip of his own, and looked for the boy he once loved in the man before him. There were shadows in Bucky’s face, where none was before. The clean cut, clean shaven boy who laughed with the warmth of the sun and looked at him with a storm in his grey eyes was not entirely gone- Steve saw glimpses of him in their earlier interaction. But in silence he saw the man that the boy had become- more withdrawn, a little disheveled, hair a little too long and face unshaven. But the grey eyes- Bucky put down his glass and looked at Steve straight in the eyes and it was like lightning struck twice. 

“I’m really happy to see you again.” Bucky whispered. Steve lowered his eyes from that intense look, the naked emotion in Bucky’s face. A raised voice saying ‘hey’ broke the tension, and Bucky gave Steve a half-smile before moving to serve the other patrons at the bar. Steve finished his drink quickly- the alcohol burning down his throat, took out a twenty and for a minute hesitated before taking out a business card and scrawling something on the back of it. He placed the glass on top of the card and the money and walked out, not looking back.

It was nearing 2 am when he heard the soft knock on the door of his motel room, where he had been busy looking over paperwork and told himself we was definitely not waiting, but would now and again look over his phone that stayed stubbornly silent. When the knock came he had all but given up, lying down on the bed with his clothes still on while he stared at the ceiling, recollections flooding his mind. He sat up at the sound, hesitated, then steeled himself and stood and opened the door.

On the other side was Bucky, in that black leather jacket and red scarf, hair pulled back in a messy bun, playing with the white business card in his hand that seemed to glow in the dim light of the motel hallway. Their eyes met, and there was so much there that either could say, and before he knew it Steve had gripped at Bucky’s jacket, like a lifeline, and pulled him inside roughly, pushing him to the door as it closed, and kissed him like the years they were apart never happened.

Bucky kissed back, eager, his hands finding their way on Steve’s now unfamiliar body, but though it looked different Bucky still knew where to touch. That night they touched and kissed some more, so much more. Steve foolishly felt drunk, even with just the one drink of the night, and as Bucky trailed his kisses down his torso he let his head fall back into the pillow, and groaned when without preamble Bucky took him in his mouth. It didn’t take long for him to come, and neither did Bucky when Steve took him in his hand. Bucky let out an embarrassed laugh after he came, and Steve just kissed him. No words, at least none of substance, left either of their mouths. They fell asleep after kissing some more, Bucky holding on to Steve as if he might leave.

Which was what Steve did, soon as the dawn came, his soldier’s training waking him up like clockwork. He looked over at Bucky, who was snoring lightly and turned to his side. He gathered up his documents and shoved them carefully in his bag, and in complete silence left the room. He paid it off, of course, before leaving, and he did feel a pang of regret as he pulled away from the parking lot. He was supposed to stay for three days, but cut his trip short and started the drive to the camp where S.H.I.E.L.D. was sending him to liaise with, a three hour drive from his hometown. He was running away again, he knew, but he didn’t care. It was a mistake, last night, that he knows in the light of day. When he looked at Bucky sleeping, he knew he should have damn well left his heart like before- broken but healing. Now it felt shattered all over again, shattered with hope that he just can’t accept. 

He was in the middle of a meeting when he got the text from an unknown number. All it said was

‘So that’s how it felt like. All those years, Stevie.’

Then another, much simpler,

‘I’m sorry.’


End file.
